A Lonely Traveler

As the last man on the planet Earth, Time has become my mortal enemy. A whole world to walk silently alone, In fruitless reflection of what was. The streets are fully empty now, But I can still hear the traffic. The stampede of marauding vehicles, At the mercy of synchronized colored lights. The rhythmic sound of pedestrian shoes, Clip-clopping on busy city sidewalks. With everyone speeding along at such a frenzied pace, We became oblivious to the oncoming corner. That dark and ominous corner sealing our fate, And nominating this narrator of our story. It's a story no one will ever hear, As it replays in my tortured mind. A tale about the tiniest of creatures, Bred in the bowels of a secluded lab. This viral giant that was let loose, To reak havoc on an unsuspecting populace. Three billion dead in the first month alone, Leaving a scattered and tattered trail of corpses. Not even the government or media had ample time, To prepare us for our impending demise. The sudden end was just the beginning, Of my permanent and involuntary solitude. Why I alone was granted this final reprieve, Is what haunts my every waking moment. And, with all other animal life victims too; The dead silence has become as maddening, As the deafening crescendo of tinnitus, Which echoes in my persecuted ears. But still, I continue my futile search, In the hopes that someone else survived. I travel by whatever vacant conveyance available, That isn't littered with mannequinned remains. A bleak journey over a vast fading nation, That I somberly and reluctantly traverse daily. What fools we were to blindly believe, We had the power to control our destiny. The countless novels written to commemorate Our struggles to overcome the multitude of obstacles. The many sad pitfalls and glorious victories, That smelted and forged us into who we were. Now, at the dusk of my wayward wandering, The sun begins its inevitable slow descent. Yet, I find myself humming a familiar tune, As I walk towards the horizon of another day.